You Were Mine
by Sherlock's 2nd Blogger
Summary: Post-TRF, early reunion AU. Mary makes a decision she believes is best for Sherlock and John. Intended as strong friendship, but can be read as Johnlock pre-slash if you want. Not for Mary/John shippers. Based off You Were Mine by the Dixie Chicks. Rated kplus because I'm paranoid. Hope you like it!


**A/N Hello!**

**So... yet again another story idea distracted me from my in progress ones. Luckily, this one's just a oneshot, so it was taken care of pretty quickly.**

**This can be read as friendship (which is what was intended) or Johnlock pre-slash, if you prefer. Warning, though, if you're a strong Mary and John shipper you should leave. Now. I haven't gotten a bad review yet and I would love to keep up that streak.**

**Anyway, this is one of those where I was listening to a song and a certain line caught my attention and dragged a connecting line to a fandom. This has happened multiple times. In the Sherlock fandom it's happened with Human by Christina Perry (working on that one), Homeless Heart by Jennette McCurdy (first chapter is typed but won't be posted for a while) and finally this one with You Were Mine by The Dixie Chicks.**

**So... enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any version of Sherlock, nor do I own any of the above (or below) mentioned songs, singers or lyrics.**

"Something's wrong with Sherlock."

Mary studied her boyfriend. He looked worried... Very worried. And if he was concerned about Sherlock, she knew something was up.

"How do you know?"

John waved his hand towards the window of 221B. "His violin. He's playing his violin. Whatever he's playing reflects his mood, and right now he's playing something melancholy and sad enough to make almost anyone's breath catch."

His voice lowered a little more. "He's even humming along. I've never heard him do that."

Mary looked at John. "Did you talk to him?"

John sighed. "I tried, but he didn't even look away from the window."

"It's me, isn't it."

"What? No, Mary, it's not your fault he's like this, he's just-"

"No John. It's me. He needs you, and he thinks I'm taking you away."

John scoffed. "If he needs me, then why did he leave? Why'd he make me think he was... dead?"

"To save you." Mary sighed. "John, you've told me what you were like when you returned from the war. You said you were lost, alone. Needed someone by you. Now Sherlock's returned from a war. He has physical scars from that- I've seen them even when he thought I couldn't. But his internal war is still ongoing, and he's still gathering hidden scars. John, you and Sherlock are brothers in all but blood. He needs you, and I know you need him. You just said it yourself- something's wrong. If he's showing that, then, no matter what he's said, he's not ok, and he's not fine either."

"Mary, what are you...?"

"What I'm saying is I think I need to step out of the picture. I know you're closing off from him because you don't want to be hurt by him again, but that's exactly what'll cause you to lose him again. Me being around won't help. The Dynamic Duo is just that- a duo. Not a trio, not just a solo act."

Understanding started to dawn in John's eyes. "He thinks he'll be kicked out of my life, doesn't he?"

Mary smiled. "Yes. I know you love me, and I love you back. It'll be hard to let go. But Sherlock needs his brother. And I don't mean Mycroft. Besides, we don't have to kick each other out of our lives for good. Just stop dating," she added with a wry smile.

John nodded. "I'm going to go talk to him."

Mary shook her head. "Let me try first." She took out her phone and dialed John, and he picked up, slightly confused. "I'll put my phone on speaker so you can hear what's being said."

John was hesitant, but nodded. "Go for it."

Mary smiled at John and entered the building, going up the stairs silently. She got to the door with 221B riveted onto it and listened for a second. John was right. Whatever Sherlock was playing was rather sad... and very familiar.

Mary silently opened the door, not bothering to knock, and walked in, where she continued trying to identify the song Sherlock was playing.

She definitely recognized lyrics from one of the lines: _Without you it ain't worth livin'... _

_Alone. _

Suddenly, it hit her. _You were mine, Dixie Chicks._

She listened as he got to the refrain.

_Sometimes I wake up, _

_cryin' at night, _

_and sometimes I scream out your name. _

_What right does she have to take you away,_

_when for so long you were mine?_

Mary ran through the lyrics in her head and waited.

_I took out all the pictures of our wedding day._

_It was a time of love and laughter,_

_happy ever after._

_But even those old pictures have begun to fade..._

"Please tell me she's not real, and that you're really coming home to stay."

Sherlock jumped and stopped playing as Mary sang the line that she knew Sherlock was thinking the most.

She peered at the detective. "I didn't think you would know that song."

Sherlock stared at her for a few seconds, frozen. Then he cleared his throat nervously and carefully set his violin and bow in his case.

"Yes, well mu- my mother used to listen to the... Dixie Chicks a lot. That song just... it..."

"Fit," Mary finished. "You think I'm going to take John away from you."

Sherlock stared at her, and she smiled sadly. "John told me what you play reflects your mood. But the one you were just playing did more- it reflected your thoughts."

Mary expected Sherlock to deny it. She expected a fight of sorts. But it appeared that Sherlock felt he was too defeated to put up his mask.

"I didn't want to say anything... John's mad enough already and I figured nothing I could say would stop the inevitable. I knew from the beginning John would leave me at some point. They all do, but I was foolish enough to hope that this would be different. I had it coming, though. I don't deserve John. I hurt him, and if leaving with you makes him happy, I won't stop him."

"Sherlock..."

"That's why you're here, right? To tell me he's leaving? They've never told me themselves. All the signs have passed; staying away from the flat, not talking much, sending glares at me when they think I can't see. He's leaving and I'll be alo-"

"No, Sherlock. He's not leaving. I am."

_That's gotta be a record, _Mary thought somewhat amused as Sherlock stared at her again, wide-eyed. _Most Times Someone's Surprised Sherlock Holmes... no wait, John holds that record._

Sherlock's brow furrowed. "You're leaving? John's... staying? But that... that's not right..." Sherlock's face morphed to dread. "I'm sorry! Whatever I did to scare you off, I didn't mean to! Please don't leave John, I can't do that to him-"

Mary interrupted. "No, he's fine. I talked to him about it. You did nothing wrong."

"He's... fine? It wasn't me?" Sherlock was confused all over again. Every time he thought he figured it out...

Mary shook her head. "No. It was my decision. I've noticed how much you need him, Sherlock, and though you may not believe it, he needs you too. You're worth something to him. You two are brothers; not in blood, but in bond. And brothers protect each other."

Sherlock hung his head and whispered, "But I didn't protect him. I hurt him. I caused the return of his PTSD, made him use that cane. I tore apart his life. I made him watch...I made the strongest man I know cry... What kind of brother does that?"

"You ended life as you knew it to save his. That's one of the most selfless sacrifices ever, the kind of thing you see only in legends and fiction stories. You see, another funny thing about true brothers is that they'd do anything for the other, but more than that, they forgive each other. I know John's forgiven you, even if you haven't forgiven yourself. Let him in again. You saved him when he returned from the war. Let him help you in the aftermath of yours against Moriarty... and let him save you from your ongoing one."

Sherlock brought his head back up, his expression skeptical, distrustful... cynical. "Why are you doing this? You don't even know me. What do you have to gain by leaving?"

Mary shrugged. "Maybe I don't know you. Not personally, at least. Society has villainized you, Sherlock. But John's told me what you're really like. Not everything, but enough for me to get a general picture- enough for me to banish the evil, psychopathic image that everyone else believed. Something he told me when we still thought you were dead was that he regretted not responding to something you told him once."

"And that was?"

"You said to him, 'I don't have friends. I just have one.' He told me he wished he had told you just what that meant to him."

Sherlock looked puzzled. "But he did."

"How so?"

Sherlock turned his piercing gaze straight into Mary's eyes. "He never left."

He then looked at the door. "I know you're there, John. I can hear the feedback."

There was a muttered curse behind the door and John peered in, a sheepish expression on his face as he hit the hang up button on his phone, but that instantly morphed to amazement. "You... did you think I... hated you?"

Sherlock shrugged, trying to make light of it. "It was only logical."

"Okay... Spock... did you ever think that maybe I was trying to avoid being hurt by you again? It's actually a pretty normal reaction-" John stopped as he caught sight of the glare Mary was sending him and the not-so-hidden hurt flashing in Sherlock's eyes. "And... Well, that was a lie. Mainly, it was just awkward. You had been gone for roughly 14 months doing who knows what and I... I wasn't sure how much you had changed. If I didn't find out, I could imagine nothing changed and that was idiotic of me."

John waited for Sherlock's muttered scoff of _"Sentiment" _and, when he didn't get it, plowed on ahead. "As Mary said, one of the things I regretted most was just standing there, goading on more when you said, 'I don't have friends. I just have one.' I wasn't sure if you still thought that and I was apprehensive to find out."

Sherlock stared at John until he started shifting a bit, obviously trying to figure out how to answer. Finally, he opened his mouth and replied, "Trust me, John, I have changed. Nothing's quite the same anymore." He stopped and took a breath. "As for friends, I actually don't think I have any anymore." He rushed on as though scared of being decked- good thing, too, as John was considering it. "Your status has been moved up from 'best friend' to 'brother.' Did quite a while ago, to be honest, but..."

He trailed off and John stared at Sherlock until he started blushing. It was obvious through his body language what he was thinking- _Did I do it wrong? Should I not have said that?_

During this awkward moment, no one noticed Mary slip out the door with a smile.

"B-brother?" John's almost whispered voice was loud in the silence. Sherlock nodded hesitantly.

"Yes, John. You've done things for me even my biological brother hasn't done. You haven't left, even through everything I've done to you... even though I don't deserve someone like you."

John shook his head. "No, Sherlock. You saved me. I was nearly destroyed when you fell. You asked me when we met if I wanted to see more trouble, and I said yes. You're my trouble, you're my friend, and frankly you're what keeps me going. Not many people get to see the side of you that I have." John smiled at his friend, and a little playful glint sparked in his eyes. "I couldn't think of another person I'd rather have be stuck with nearly 24/7."

"Not even Mary?"

Again, John shook his head. "Mary's great and everything, but no. I'd rather it be my insane, 'high-functioning sociopathic' best friend."

Sherlock smiled slightly. But John wasn't done yet.

"You know, Harry and I never got along. She didn't really see me as anything more than a pest. I had always wished I had a brother; someone to do things with, someone to talk to and listen to. And now I do."

Sherlock didn't seem to know what to do with all this information. His grin was slowly spreading across his entire face, lighting up not only his eyes, but the whole room, though he was also blushing and shifting his weight around awkwardly.

John stepped forwards and enveloped his best-friend-now-proclaimed-brother into a hug. Sherlock, unsurprisingly, tensed up, and John felt a pang in his heart.

"Is she gone?" Sherlock whispered, and John felt another pang. Partly because Mary really was gone, as a quick glance around the room proved. But mostly because Sherlock still felt like he needed to hide his emotions from the world, be a good machine for everyone- everyone except John.

"Yes, Sherlock. She's gone."

And with that, Sherlock carefully wrapped his arms around John in a returning hug. It was clear he didn't quite know how to do this, but he relaxed into it quickly enough, and John smiled. Looked like now, everything wasn't just back to their version of "normal"- it appeared it was even better.

Later that night found them trying to stifle their (very manly) giggles as they walked away from another case, and Greg Lestrade looked on and chuckled, glad to see the tension between the detective and his blogger had dissipated. Everything was back to normal in his eyes.

Sherlock and John noticed and grinned at each other. Oh, if only Greg knew just how much better it was now.

** ...So yeah! I sent this to ****shnuffeluv before I posted it, so I'm gonna go ahead right now and say thank you so much for the PM "review!" I was a little unsure about this one and I'm just really glad you liked it.**

**Please review!**

**Edit 7/8/14: I finally saw His Last Vow. I'm so glad I wrote this before I saw it. I wouldn't have been able to do this right. Oh, and thanks a bunch to Yumi-wheeler for being my first Favorite-r! =D**


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